


Colors and Words

by Takatsu



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-02-13 23:51:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2170059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Takatsu/pseuds/Takatsu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love is not only spoken. Is not only seen.<br/>Love is felt.<br/>It is a language that transcends the senses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

How do you make a person appreciate the beauty of the world?

Come to think of it, how do you even make him understand the concept of beauty?

This, he wonders as he stares at the orange-haired boy who had been staring outside the window. He just stood there, silent, but with the loudest smile on his face.

And he swears, oh he swears—he had the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen.

Warm. Like the sun. Pure. Like light.

This he quietly watches as the black-haired lad leans against the wall. It had been a habit of his. He would pass by that room, and as quietly as he could, he would pretend to be waiting for someone. Thankfully, the orange head hadn’t seem to have noticed him yet.

He was just there. Staring. All day long. At the blue skies. The lush of the greenery. Of the buildings that towered above the thousands of people who have taken these things for granted.

He had never talked to him, but he knew.

Despite the fact that he would never ever see them, the boy knew.

His heart knows.

Just how beauty lies beyond these walls.

The black haired boy smiles to himself.

He wonders, oh how he wonders.

Just how he could tell him. How blue the sky is, and just how fascinating it becomes when it shifts its colors from a striking blue to a warm orange to a cold dark blue. Just how green the trees outside where, and how the once lush green could morph into a solemn brown when autumn comes, and just how the world explodes into pink when the cherry blossom trees come into full bloom.

He would, and he certainly would.

Tell the orange head all the colors of the world.

"Kageyama-kun?"

A voices cuts across his thoughts. He immediately hurries to the other side and faces the source of the voice.

"Are you ready for your therapy?"

He would have gladly rolled his eyes, but oh well. He ought to show some respect.

He makes signs with his hands, telling the woman that he would soon follow her.

The woman smiles. “I see. Make sure you hurry, Kageyama-kun!”

He forces a smile and makes another sign with his hands.

At least that’s what they were trying to say.

But not his heart.


	2. Silence and Noise

**Silence**.

Is him.

But definitely, not the world around him.

Life itself is a noise. A never-ending one. Once you go outside, the chaotic noise will never stop.

 _What have you been doing lately? Are you living your life? How's your job? Did you study for that test? Life sucks. I hate it. I wish I could get rich. I just want money. Did you see that movie? He's really cute! You think she'll notice me? Ah, that guy looks like a creep. The government sure is being a failure._  The chatters span from the most trivial to the most controversial ones.

And as if these words were not enough to sway the city noise into a much more chaotic explosion of sounds, the honks of cars are certainly worth to mention. Day in and day out, they sped across the busy streets whenever he had to step out of his room to go to the usual place. Oftentimes, when he sees a fire truck coming, he would cover his ears. He hated the sound of the siren. The ambulance was no exception. Of course, it was common sense that they were loud sounds. But to him, it was more than that. It agitated him. As if these noises say-somewhere, someone out there, there was danger. A person whose life is at stake.

Perhaps, he was also jealous.

That inanimate things could make these noises.

But not him.

He sees his mother enter the room. Ask the doctor questions. Hear her saying something about how the patient is still struggling. This was not his decision after all. He had been very much against this. He would have wanted to stay inside his room and read about his favorite volleyball team.

And that's the problem.

He could shake his head profusely, wave his hands in such an aggressive way that could probably make him like some ridiculous mime actor.

But they just speak for him. His parents. The people around him.

He yearns. He yearns for it.

To open his mouth and just scream. Words. Sentences. Even a mere whimper, grunt. Laughter. Scowl. Hiss. All the sounds that a living thing like him could make. And when he does, he'd make sure he'll drown out every sound that exists in the city.

"Tobio-chan, we're gonna be back here next week, okay?"

He bit his lips. Actions speak louder than words? Yeah right. He'd pretty much given up on using all the hand signals that he could think of.

He just stared back and glared. At least his eyes could do the job. Hopefully.

The doctor smiles. "You'll be able to speak one day."

He clenches his fists, but he hides them behind the chair.

Her mother bows and thanks the doctor for all the "help". He does the same. It's better to live through society's roles anyways.

He follows her mother's back, not even giving a glance at the people that walked to and fro the hospital.

Until his eyes caught something.

Something striking.

A color.

Orange.

The boy looked back. Crap. He must have noticed his stare.

He then got a full view of that boy to whom the orange hair belonged to.

Their eyes met.

It was weird. The moment it happened, he swore he wasn't able to perceive any other noise. Not a single sound. It was as if…everything just muted.

But soon he realized, the boy wasn't exactly looking at him. The pair of amber eyes looked unfocused as he stared at a space that was inches off the spot where the lad stood. Still, it seemed that he was aware of the fact that there was a presence before him.

"Who's there?"

The question made him flinch. He remembers the time he painstakingly spent just to get adjusted to the doctor's questions. Sure, she was a nice woman but still—strangers are just not within his circle of comfort.

"Tobio?" Her mother called.

His name brought him back to his senses.

He bit his lips again and offered the boy a silent apology.

* * *

The orange head smiled to himself. He then reached out his hands to see if he was taking the usual route to his spot.

"Must have been some curious kid…" He mutters as he finally gets hold of a post. Placing his free hand against the wall for support, the orange head stands in front the window.

And stares.

The noises are lively as always. And to him, these noises are his proof of comfort.

It is the proof that what stretches beyond him is not plain darkness. And that someday, he would see it.

It is a proof that the world around him exists. And he was a part of it.

* * *

As the black-headed boy walked, he felt a strange pinch in his heart.

For the first time, he wished he could have said something.

As if to affirm his existence and say:

"Yes. I am here."

And I am a part of your world.

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to continue it.XD. You could follow me @zankyou-no-takatsu on tumblr for updates on this fic. ^^


	3. If

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD THIS FIC IS STILL ALIVE?!
> 
> (I don't know. I feel frustrated. Work has certainly buried my inspiration to write, but then one day I thought, "Fuck this, I don't wanna stop writing. I don't want to lose the ability to string words." So yeah.

Love. Alone. Blue. Sky. One. Hero. Paper. Silence. Phone. Family. Book. Wood. Wind. Science.

 

There could be thousands. There could be millions. And they could keep on piling up. Endless. Sometimes, little by little, like a sand that pours its way on an empty glass, and sometimes, they just burst. Like a buzz of flies that swarm in his head. And he thinks, ah...it's just magical.

 

Words.

 

May mean nothing when said in their own.

 

But when you string them.

 

You could either build a person's world or just shatter it to pieces.

 

He stares at the children around him. They kept on saying these words. Retard. Weirdo. Abnormal. He hears everything. Every taunt. Every mockery. He feels the intentional shoves. He could see every smirk, every grimace. And they seep into his heart.

 

And it just hurts. All the four senses coming in at once.

 

Save for one.

 

He wants to scream back. Defend himself. Oh how lovely it would be for them to hear his thoughts. he wanted to say how ugly one of them was, and how he finds him disgusting. He wants to say that he feels sorry for the glasses kid--god he can't even write his name correctly. But most of all, he wants to say that he just fucking hates them.

Right. They had no idea that he curse like that. Which makes it all the more satisfying. He wants them to feel every syllable that would escape from his mouth.

 

If he could only utter a syllable--wait--scratch that. Why utter it when you could throw it at them? Spit it at them.

 

And so he grunts. Makes these weird sounds. Hoping that by some chance they would come out as he tries to defend himself by using his bag to block the shoves (and the kicking).

 

Words.

 

Are what builds his thoughts, but at the same time, it just shatters him to pieces.

 

He summons one last loathing glare at the jeering kids before he makes a run. They try to chase him but too bad, he was more ahtletic than them--they couldn't even catch his tosses, which is probably the reason why they are now picking at him. Just because their team lost.

 

Some losers they are.

 

He finds himself laughing as he wipes the tears that are now streaming down his face. Wait. Who on earth would find something funny and yet feel sorry for himself at the same time? Ah well, I could just ask--

 

Forget that. Right. He couldn't. But wait. He could. That's why papers and pens exist. For people like him who was born with such disability, those two are his comrades. He couldn't wait to get home and ask his mom. After all, she's been the only one who stood out for him. She and dad.

 

He wonders, oh how he wonders.

 

When he could say those words to them.

 

The first word that he hears when he opens the door was his name.

 

"Tobio..."

 

It was music to his ears. He smiles. And speaks in his head.

 

_"I'm home, Mother."_

 

**Author's Note:**

> I am still unsure whether I'll continue this or not, but yeah, just in case, I'm posting this. ^^


End file.
